


The Art Of War

by Kitty (KutieKitty16)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, War!AU, shance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 21:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15324348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KutieKitty16/pseuds/Kitty
Summary: "Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys."- Sun Tsu, The Art of WarIn the midst of a war between two powerful countries, a pure white rose and a blackened ember cross paths. With their homelands against each other, they'll fight for freedom and love in a game of chess undermining everyone and everything they think they stand for.Slow BurnAO3 Exclusive





	The Art Of War

"In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity." - Sun Tsu, The Art Of War

 

"Get in there! Now!" Lance slammed his hands down onto the desk and screamed orders into his headset. The monitors sprawled scenes of blood across the walls.

 _"I can't get visual!"_ The radios stuffed the room full of cries and desperate shouts.  _"Rodriguez! What's your status?!"_

_"Nothing's working! They've got my team cornered!"_

Lance jumped in, "Get your men out of there! I will  _not_ be losing you tonight!"

_"Affirmative! Men! Let's get back to base!"_

_"I can still get into—ah!"_

Lance felt a lightning bolt of panic, "Amaro! Amaro! Answer me!" He looked up at the screen with Amaro's helmet cam. It only displayed a picture of the grimy wall. "Amaro!"  _No!_ Lance switched channels. "Marcy! Get your team to Amaro's! They need backup!"

 _"Copy that, Heir Commander!"_ Her camera showed her turn to her team and direct them back. Lance watched in deep concern as they marched through the gunfire to reach Amaro's team. He tapped his gloved fingers on the desk as his heart beat against his lungs hard enough to almost crack his ribs.

Hunk crossed his arms and let out a deep sigh, "He's gone, Lance. Retreat."

With a pound of his fist on the wood, he screamed back. "I will not leave Amaro's team to die or burn up in a pointless battle. If they're gone, we need to recover the bodies!"

"Are you listening to yourself?!" Hunk pushed himself off the wall and stomped over to him. He met his eyes with a gentle intensity. "Remember your training. You studied for years."

Lance's eyes went wide as he recalled his years of cultivation. The voice comms continued to yell at him and surround him with panic.

_"Amaro!"_

_"He's down!"_

_"Rodriguez reporting! I've got my team to safety. Should we go back for Marcy and Luann?"_

_"Heir Commander, they're all gone. What do we do?!"_

_"Should we recover the bodies?"_

_"Of course we should! Those are our brothers!"_

_"Collecting the bodies now."_

Lance groaned in frustration and slapped the table again. He gritted his teeth, "Get Amaro's team and get out of there."

_"Retreat?"_

_"Heir Commander, are you sure?"_

_"We can probably get them. While Marcy's team is with Amaro, we could sneak around back."_

"No!" Lance clamped his eyes shut and calmed his breathing. "Do what I say. Get the team and get out. Alive, this time."

_"Affirmative. Extracting Amaro and retreating."_

 

 

Lance's short heels under his boots clicked and bounced off the walls with every step he took. He had a strange tendency to swing his arms wider than he needed to, letting his hips follow in syncopation. That morning's battle ran through his head over and over as he second-guessed every choice he made. Maybe if he had told Amaro to go in through the back instead of the side he would've made it out alive. Maybe if he had waited just a second longer. Maybe if he had told Luann to stay with him instead of checking the other buildings. Maybe if he hadn't been in charge of the mission at all. Maybe everyone would have survived. As much as he wanted to, his eyes failed to produce the tears he craved. Amaro was like an uncle to him. Losing someone who had been so influential in his life was devastating-at least it should've been. However, Lance was raised to become accustomed to the risk of losing everything at any time. That must be why his soldiers trusted him so much despite his young age. 

At a mere thirteen years of age, Lance had taken over as Heir Commander of the Ryuu military. His father's had paid for his numerous mentors and even let him shadow them on missions. Death and war had become a theme of his childhood. Now that he was a little older, it was time for him to be sworn in. Since that day, he had become the youngest and most loyal commander the country had seen. All the soldiers grew to bow down to him and kiss the ground at his feet. One would think Lance would grow to become cocky, but he remained humble. He would always lower down to their level with a gentle smile and kiss the back of their hand, whispering a calm "No, it is you who fights." 

Lance loved his soldiers like his own brothers. He grew to know them as people and attended every funeral he could when they fell on his watch. Even if he was only a stone-faced thirteen-year-old, he loved people much more than most. Ryuu was a country that had no problem sending their children to war. From the age of twelve any Ryuuishian could be drafted or enlist themselves. Many opted to wait until they were at least seventeen, but it wasn't rare to see a child splattered across no man's land. Age was never a setback for Lance, rather, he never saw it that way. Any rebellious soldier who had the balls to confront him was always smacked with a rant of ancient knowledge and wisdom of someone god-like sang from the lips of a boy half their age. This is what led him to be named the "pure white rose." Purity was something Lance didn't believe he had. What purity had been left in his broken mind? He had witnessed the horrors of war and human insanity first-hand. Was there anything else that he hadn't experienced that made him any better than these men who gave their lives for him?

Lance rounded corner and stopped in front of two large golden dragon-etched doors with a smooth scrape of his boots. He wrapped his small hands around the long handles and pulled them open, slipping inside when it was wide enough. As the light behind him dissipated, he lit the line of candles on the long tables. The library was his favorite place. It was built specially for him, so he could always be alone unless he wished for different. When there was enough light for him to see, he admired the private room. The ceilings were lower than the halls and the walls stretched further with an elegant dark wood. Gold was ever-present in the room along with art of dragons. Rows of books filled the room, leaving a large space on the right side in front of the doors for a large table and a few comfy chairs by the large window. Lance drifted up to the first bookshelf and let his fingers run over the spines as he floated over to a special position in the room. Cradled in its own case, a golden book with the painting of a serpent on it lay in waiting for the young prince. Lance carefully lifted it out of its bed and brought it over to the table, taking a seat in front of it. When he was situated, he traced the shiny gold title with his fingertips.

_The Art Of War_

Lance's entire life was spent studying the teachings of Sun Tzu. Sometimes it felt like that's all he ever was: a human phonograph stuck on repeat, reciting the four volumes that shaped war itself. Lance took in a deep breath of the pages and opened it up, reading over the various tactics that had etched themselves into his brain. It made sense to read over them if he fucked up as badly as he did that morning, even if he could recite every one by heart. 

_"There are three ways in which a ruler can bring misfortune upon his army.-_

_1) By commanding the army to advance or retreat, being ignorant of the fact that it cannot obey. This is called hobbling the army."_

Lance paused to think over the battle again. Had he ordered Amaro to advance when he didn't know if he could? Did he order Rodriguez without knowing a route for them to save themselves? Had he thought over the plan enough to know these things?

_"2) By attempting to govern an army in the same way as he administers a kingdom, being ignorant of the conditions which obtain in an army. This causes restlessness in the soldiers' minds."_

Had Lance gotten too cozy staying in the office, away from the heat of battle? Had he become too proud of being in a position of power and caused distrust in his brothers?

_"3) By employing the officers of his army without discrimination, through ignorance of the military principle of adaptations to circumstances. This shakes the confidence of the soldiers."_

Had Lance put Amaro in a position of power in which he wasn't prepared? Had he shown weakness that put the assumption of a suicide mission in his teams' fragile minds? He clutched his chest at the realization of a disheartening possibility: had Lance messed up and caused his soldiers to believe he had sent them to die?

Lance slowly shut the book and lied his head down onto his arms. "What did you do wrong?" he whimpered to himself. If Lance had a mother, she would probably tell him that he tried his best and did everything he could. Maybe even his father, Commander Erich, would tell him that. It was false. If Lance had truly done his best and tried everything he could, Amaro would be alive right now instead of lying in a morgue beside his brethren. It was all his fault. No one but Lance was responsible for the death of his soldiers. However, that didn't mean he could curl up and give up. He had to get up, dust off his plum tailcoat, and appear before his army with his head held high. With one last deep sigh, Lance stood from his chair and returned the book to its case; heading off to prepare for bed.

 

"Ichi!" A sudden shuffling of guns sounded as Lance took another step and called out to his soldiers again. "Ni!" 

Another shift in the position of their rifles.

"San!"

The men continued the routine as the sun beat down on their necks. The dusty base was filled with the lively sounds of soldiers practicing their various skills to keep sharp. Lance had a group of his own running through their rifle routines. It taught them many things, from how to handle their guns in general to listening to their commander.

"Shi!"

With the last call, Lance stopped his pacing and lifted a gentle hand to put them at ease. When they understood that the session had ended, their eyes relaxed as they stayed in position. The sound of his father's voice caught his attention as he marched along with his own team. Lance looked up to him the most. He wanted to live up to the name of Commander Emihl's son. All he wish for was for him to be proud, so today was one where Lance wanted to hide away from his reach. He feared that if Emihl were to confront him about what happened yesterday, he wouldn't be able to hold back the tears long enough to flee. Instead of attracting attention, he continued as if nothing had happened at all and turned to his men. "Soldiers!" Lance couldn't help but be a little embarrassed of his higher tone. Both of his fathers had robust voices that were fitting to the title of a commander. "I know we are suffering with the loss of Amaro and his team. It was a tragedy, and I am sorrowful as well." He fought to keep his shouting up. "But we must continue like we always have! We are the protectors of our sacred country! We have agreed to put our lives on the line to save our families from enslavement and torture." Lance puffed his chest and stood tall and proud. "We will continue to fight for our freedom! No one will take away our rights or bring harm upon our loved ones! Long live Ryuu!"

Shouts of agreement began to arise from the crowd. Smiles and nods of agreement were accompanied by a rising fire in the eyes of his soldiers. Lance opened his mouth to continue, but they took the speech into their own mouths. They called out songs of praise and love for their country. A small sense of pride rose in Lance's chest as he watched them support their fallen brothers. The men and women standing before him respected him and believed in his cause. Whether that was a positive thing or something that would tear him down, Lance didn't know. 

 

Lance watched the large butterfly rest on his finger as he sat on the edge of the garden's fountain. The sound of rushing water beside him was as calming as a steaming cup of tea. He studied the wings that drifted on his finger with a happy smile. The underside of them was a muddy brown, but when they were open they displayed a bright blue. Strange for something so gentle to possess such harsh colors. As it flew away in a smooth flutter, it found a patch of flowers to use as a resting place as it studied Lance in the same way. 

"Aren't you supposed to be studying?"

Lance turned his head to greet Hunk with a friendly grin, "Aren't you supposed to be making your rounds?"

Hunk outstretched his arms and tilted his head in a playful retort, "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"And the garden needs to be checked on the daily?"

He shrugged, "You never know what kind of kid is playing hooky."

Lance brought a hand up to gently cover his mouth as he laughed, "Don't talk like you're older than me!"

Hunk sat down next to him on the edge of the white stone, "Sometimes it feels like it."

"I would love to know when," Lance gripped the edge of his seat and kicked his heels into the dirt. "It always seems like everyone is  _too young_ for me."

Hunk was one of Lance's closest friends in the military. He was the son of General Hikibara, so they practically grew up as brothers in the base. It was common for Lance to let Hunk watch over some of his missions to give him a sense of peace. Hunk was a person that didn't like to fight, on the battlefield or in his private life. Calmness followed him around like a shadow, unlike Lance's psychopathic tendencies. hunk was one of the few people that got to hear his laugh or glimpses of remorse. Despite what people said about him, Lance was still a person that felt emotions and possessed the capability to react accordingly, even if he usually didn't.

Hunk placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "I would love to stay and chat, but it really is my job to tell you to get back to work."

Lance flashed him a teasing glare, "And it's mine to order you to fuck off."

The two laughed together surrounded by the elegant flowers that decorated the garden. Even though it was open to everyone, the only ones that seemed to hang out there were Hunk, Lance, and the butterflies. It felt like a fairy tale world separated from their own. A place where they could be themselves- or at least a better version of themselves. 

"Heir Commander Lance McClain," the distinct voice of his mentor called to him from the edge of the grass. "It's time to return to your lesson."

Lance gave Hunk an annoyed look and stood from the fountain with a groan, "Understood, Coran." He looked back over his shoulder as he walked off, "I'll see you later, soldier."


End file.
